Many a man has been saved in the hour of temptation, in his later life, by the vividness of the recollection of sacred truths taught at his mother’s knee.  There may be just a little danger of cheapening the process of application if it is insisted that for every ideal impressed upon the minds of pupils there must be a corresponding immediate response in daily actions of the pupils taught.  May not a wonderful impression become the more wonderful as it is hallowed by the pondering of the mind through the maturing years of childhood and young manhood?

Finally there is the lesson which, though it involves both the intellect and the emotions, appeals primarily to the will and calls for action.  There can be no question but that this is the type of lesson of greatest significance in religious education.  We meet our pupils so infrequently, at best, that at most we can do but a fraction of what we should like to do to modify their lives.  Our concern is to change for the better their attitude and conduct, and therefore we must address ourselves to the problems they face in the every-day life which they are to live between recitations.  As Betts in his How to Teach Religion so well says: 

“In the last analysis the child does not come to us that he may learn this or that set of facts, nor that he may develop such and such a group of feelings, but that through these he may live better.  The final test of our teaching, therefore, is just like this:  Because of our instruction, does the child live differently here and now, as a child, in all his multiform relations in the home, the school, the church, the community, and in his own personal life?  Are the lessons we teach translated continuously into better conduct, finer acts, and stronger character, as shown in the daily run of the learner’s experience?

“It is true that the full fruits of our teaching and of the child’s learning must wait for time and experience to bring the individual to fuller development.  But it is also true that it is impossible for the child to lay up a store of unused knowledge and have it remain against a later time of need in a distant future.  The only knowledge that forms a vital part of our equipment is knowledge that is in active service, guiding our thoughts and decisions from day to day.  Unused knowledge quickly vanishes away, leaving little more permanent impression on the life than that left on the wave when we plunge our hand into the water and take it out again.  In similar way the interests, ideals, and emotions which are aroused, without at the same time affording a natural outlet for expression in deeds and conduct, soon fade away without having fulfilled the purpose for which they exist.  The great thing in religious education is to find immediate and natural outlet in expression, a way for the child to use what he learns; to get the child to do those things pointed out by the lessons we teach him.”